


The Party

by Ylith



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Attempted Rape/Non-Con, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 05:42:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2610545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ylith/pseuds/Ylith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High School junior Arthur goes to College Fratboy Dom's party hoping to profess his love for him, but things go wrong.  They almost go even worse for Arthur when another college boy (not Eames) takes interest in him.  See end notes for more warnings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Arthur's Big Night

Arthur’s fingers ached from the weight of the keg, but the manic grin Dom kept tossing him over his shoulder made his heart swell in his chest and his jaw hurt from smiling. Arthur had met Dom when he’d been a freshman and Dom a junior, Dom on the football team and Arthur doing photography for the yearbook club for extra credit. Dom had been the most beautiful perfect boy Arthur had ever seen, and his crush had quickly gone from fun and playful to devastating. He and Dom became close friends, and even when Dom graduated and started up college he still made time for Arthur. 

Dom was only too happy to corrupt him, sneaking Arthur into parties and letting him sleep it off in his dorm room. Arthur relished any chance to be close to him, and while he’d always thought Dom would forever be unattainable, he’d lately begun to wonder if Dom wanted more. Dom liked to pull him close and hug him, wrap his arm around Arthur’s shoulders when they were out with other people. He texted Arthur often, and the last few times they hung out together to watch movies, Dom had draped his legs over Arthur’s lap. Arthur began wondering what it would be like if they got together. He imagined secret sleepovers where they kissed each other breathless, imagined him and Dom curled up on the couch together as they watched movies, moving into an apartment with him after he graduated high school. 

When Dom invited him to a party at his frat, Arthur felt like it was the perfect opportunity to finally tell his friend how he felt. The whole week before the party he built himself up, planning exactly what he’d say and when he’d say it. He formulated the best the best way to explain himself so he sounded like the mature teen he felt like and not a lovesick kid. He even planned what he would say if Dom told him no, though it hurt beyond belief to even imagine it. His teenage sense of invincibility told him it wasn’t even possible, that Dom wouldn’t have acted the way he had if he didn’t want him in return. 

Only now Dom was smiling at him, his cheeks flushed from the cold outside as they dragged the heavy keg into the kitchen of Dom’s frat. The party had already started in the rest of the house, the two of them just taking a moment in the kitchen to warm themselves. Even though Arthur had carefully planned how he wanted his special reveal to go, right at that second Dom was so close and smelled so fucking good that Arthur couldn’t stop himself from leaning up on his toes to softly kiss him. 

Dom immediately froze, looking down at Arthur in bewilderment. Arthur took his silence and acquiescence and wrapped his arms around his neck, putting everything he felt into his next kiss. He was so wrapped up in the moment he didn’t realize Dom was pushing him away, frowning angrily. 

“What the fuck, Arthur?” Dom spat, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. 

Arthur licked his lips, relishing the taste of his best friend there. “I really like you, Dom,” he breathed out, his lips pouty as he stepped forward, hoping Dom would realise he wanted him back and return the kiss. But Dom just glowered at him, pushing hard against Arthur’s chest with both hands. 

“Fucking stop it, Arthur,” Dom practically shouted, before quickly looking back towards the kitchen door. He pushed Arthur one final time, hard enough to send him stumbling back. Arthur braced himself against the counter, eyes wide as he looked up at Dom. Dom was glaring at him with a level of disgust Arthur had never experienced from anyone, let alone his best friend. It made him feel small, feel like the stupid little boy he’d thought he’d grown out of.

“But...but you’re always touching me,” he started, brows knit with confusion as he picked at the side of his thumb self consciously. “Hugging me...you lay on me when we watch movies.” His eyes felt hot as Dom looked at him like he’d grown another head. 

“I’m straight, Arthur,” Dom hissed, still mindful of the open kitchen door and the other people who might hear them and investigate. “I’ve got a fucking girlfriend, ok? I don’t fucking want you like that. Jesus, I hug everyone, you know that. Why the fuck would you think I liked you?”

Arthur’s head dropped, no longer able to bear looking at Dom and not wanting the older boy to see the childish tears threatening to spill from his watery eyes. He sniffed, shoulders slumped forward and arms wrapped around himself self consciously as he wished he could just wind back time and not have made the stupid move on Dom. He couldn’t work up the courage to look back up at his friend, but when Dom spit out the last of Arthur’s kiss and stomped out of the kitchen, with one last bitter “Jesus Christ,” Arthur knew damn well he wasn’t supposed to follow. 

He didn’t leave the party though, he couldn’t. Dom was his ride, and the only other person he could call was his older sister Rachel, but she was at work and wouldn’t be able to get him for at least two hours. His parents would freak if they knew where he was, and Arthur didn’t want to get Dom in any trouble, already feeling guilty enough when it came to his friend. He supposed he might as well get mind numbingly drunk to cut down some of the embarrassment. He sure wouldn’t be able to look at Dom sober for the rest of the night, if ever. 

He ignored the keg and went straight for the hard stuff, sneaking several swigs of flavored vodka straight from the bottle. Eventually, a couple guys he didn’t know came in and found him leaning against the keg, and helped him drag it to the living room. The party was going strong there, so Arthur sat with a big group and just listened, laughing along with them when someone told a joke, giggling with the older girls as they played Never Have I Ever. All the while he kept drinking, downing several plastic cups of beer and accepting any shot offered. He saw Dom across the room and desperately wanted to go over and apologise, to sit with him and have fun with him like they usually did. But when Dom caught his eyes, and the angry glare Arthur received let him know that wasn’t an option.

Unable to stay where he could see Dom, Arthur wandered through the house, maneuvering through groups of co-eds to find another place to hang. Loud cheering brought him out to the garage, where he found a group smoking and doing body shots. There was a girl lying on the hood of a car, her shirt rucked up to her ribs. She giggled as another girl leaned down and licked salt off her stomach, the crowd around them cheering until the other girl plucked the lime wedge out of her mouth with her teeth. “Sexy!” someone yelled, the girl’s cheeks pink as she slid down from the hood and pulled her shirt down.

The girl who’d licked her pointed her beer bottle towards a cluster of boys. “Ok you got a little girl on girl, now it’s your turn boys!” she shouted, her brows waggling in challenge. The other girls gave shouts of agreements over the retching noises and booing of the guys. 

“Give us a show!” another girl said. 

Arthur imagined licking salt off of Dom’s toned stomach and felt himself flush, but Dom wasn’t there. He was in the other room, angry with Arthur and possibly no longer interested in even his friendship. That thought made him feel unbelievably empty.

Suddenly, a blonde girl he didn’t recognize leaned in close to him, her lashes clumped together with makeup. “Do you want a shot?” she asked him, brows raised. 

He nodded without thinking, and then she was dragging him to the front by a firm grip of his upper arm. She looked back at him over her shoulder, cooing at him with pursed lips while she told him how completely adorable he was. 

“Here!” she shouted to her friends. “This little guy wants a shot!”

The girls crowded around him, petting his hair and gripping his chin excitedly. Then they were all preening at him, telling him how cute he was, how sweet his dimples were. One asked if he was still in highschool, and when he nodded she trilled “oh my god that’s adorable!” He then realized that the girls were trying to find him a body shot partner, and he got nervous. His nerves only increased when a burly guy stepped forward, chest all puffed up for show as his buddies either slapped him on the back for “taking one for the team” or threw homophobic slurs at him. 

The guy reminded Arthur of a super buff version of Dom. He was tall, blonde with dark brows, and huge hands. He towered over Arthur, dragging his shirt up to expose his ripped abs as he cockily quirked a brow. “You ready for this, little boy?” he asked. 

Arthur looked back for the blonde girl, shaking his head adamantly. “I don’-wanna” he slurred, scared as hell he’d spout wood or something. He hated being the center of attention, not quite drunk enough to be confident and let loose. Then suddenly there were strong hands under his arms and he was being hauled up to sit on the hood of the car, like he weighed nothing. He looked up bewildered to see the big blond guy before him, blinking rapidly as he was pushed to lie back with a hand to his chest. The people around them were laughing, urging the guy on, the guy is even laughing and showing off for them, but Arthur can barely breathe as his shirt is pushed up around his ribs. 

Arthur tried to laugh, wanting to have fun with everyone else, but he couldn’t stop panicking a bit that he’d get a hard on, that the others in the room would realize he was gay and they’d stop thinking it was funny. One of the girls dusted salt over his belly, and he shivered as it tickled him before a lime wedge was being pushed between his teeth. All around him the others were chanting “Lick it! Lick it!”

Arthur’s stomach sucked in involuntarily as the guy’s hot tongue dragged up the entire length of his belly and up onto his chest, leaving a rapidly cooling trail in it’s wake. He felt his back arching, and it was probably his nerves alone that kept him from sprouting instant wood. He’d never been touched by anyone like this, and while it was obviously meant to be a joke he wasn’t really ready to be touched in this manner. He clenched his eyes shut, the cheers around him fuzzy in his ears as he took a shuddering breath. His eyes flew open though when he felt the lime being plucked from between his teeth, and he watched the guy bite the lime and then shoot his arms up triumphantly.

The crowd around them cheered, and several girls coming over to pat his hair or his chest and tell him “that was awesome.” Then another girl volunteered to be next and just like that, the party kept going. Arthur slunk off the hood of the car, pulling his sweater down and rubbing over his belly to wipe the remaining spit off. He tucked his hair behind his ear, cheeks still burning as he eyed the older kids around him, relieved that their attention was averted.

It was all a bit overwhelming, and Arthur was just ready to go home. He checked his phone, groaning when he saw the time. His sister wouldn’t be off work for another hour yet, but he still typed out a quick message, asking her to come get him asap. She didn’t check her messages at work, but at least it would be ready and waiting for her. He crept over to a folding table set up with booze, eyeing the half empty bottles until he felt a warm hand on his shoulder turning him around. Arthur glanced up to see the big blond guy standing there, smiling at him. 

“You were a good sport back there, little guy,” he said, corner of his mouth curling into a grin. “Thanks for playing along.”

Arthur shrugged, huffing out a nervous laugh. “No problem,” he replied. 

The guy crossed his arms over his chest, giving him a once over before his eyes flickered to the liquor bottles behind him. “How old are you?” he asked. “You look way too young to be in college.”

Arthur chewed at his lower lip, wondering if he should lie. “Um...I’m sixteen,” he finally admitted. “But I’ve been to parties like this before though...it’s no big deal.”

The guy’s eyebrows rose, his hands going to his hips. “A little young for frat parties, aren’t you kid? Do you know someone here?”

Arthur quickly nodded, Dom’s name spilling from his lips before he could stop himself. He saw recognition on the guys face, and Arthur wondered if he was one of Dom’s frat brothers. 

“I think I saw Dom back in the house,” the guy said. “Want me to take you-”

“No!” Arthur insisted, louder than he wanted to. “I just….I was acting stupid before and irritated him...so I’m kinda hiding out for a bit until my ride gets here.”

The guy grinned at him, his teeth white and even as he wrapped an arm around Arthur’s shoulders, tugging him close like Dom used to do. “Well then I’m just gonna have to look after you, little guy,” he said jovially, ruffling Arthur’s hair. 

Arthur just wanted to close his eyes and pretend it was Dom, his heart heavy when it just wasn’t the same. “What’s your name?” he asked timidly, relieved deep down to not have to stand around by himself for another hour or so. 

“Chris,” the guy said, his burly arm now looped loosely around Arthur’s neck as he drew him into the house and towards the kitchen. “What’s yours, kid?”

“Arthur,” he said, stumbling as he tried to keep up, eyes warily darting across the living room in case he saw Dom. The room was much more crowded now, bodies packed closely together and too noisy for Arthur to pick out any sign of his friend. He let himself be led into the kitchen, grateful that the small space was empty. Chris started digging in a cabinet, whooping triumphantly when he pulled out a bottle of rum. He went into another cabinet for cups, tossing “hey Artie, check the fridge for some Coke,” over his shoulder like he and Arthur were old friends.

Arthur did as he was told, pulling out a couple of cans. He blushed as he handed them to Chris when the older boy gave him a wide smile. 

“Perfect,” Chris said. “You ever had a rum and coke?”

Arthur shook his head. Dom didn’t like rum and his parents never let him try any sort of alcohol at home. He wrapped his arms about himself as he watched Chris pour the drinks. He had no idea how much of either was supposed to be used, but when he took his first sip he found it both familiar and unfamiliar. The Coke pleasantly fizzed on his tongue and the rum warmed his throat and his belly. The aftertaste was strange, but he supposed he liked it. 

They stood in the kitchen for a while, chatting idly. Chris asked him about school, about how long he’d known Dom. When he asked Arthur about a girlfriend though, Arthur swallowed his drink wrong and began coughing. Chris whacked him on the back several times, laughing heartily as he urged Arthur to take another drink to clear his airway. He tipped Arthur’s cup up with two fingers, lips curling into a smile when he watched the drink spill past Arthur’s lips and trickle down his chin. 

“Just cough it out,” Chris suggested, his hand heavy on the back of Arthur’s neck. 

Arthur’s eyes watered as he coughed, cheeks red both from not being able to breathe and from embarrassment that he was looking like such a mess in front of this hot college guy. He took a few careful sips and when he was finally able to breathe he glanced about for something to clean his wet shirt with. “Do you have a towel?” he asked, voice rough from coughing. He balled his loose sweater sleeve in his fist and used it to wipe the wetness from his eyes, hoping it wouldn’t look to others like he’d been crying. 

Chris nodded, opening a couple drawers before pulling out a dish towel and tossing it to Arthur. “You may want to rinse that,” he advised, pointing to the sink. 

Arthur did as he suggested, wetting one half of the towel to dab at his shirt before patting it dry with the clean half. He just didn’t want to smell like booze when his sister picked him up, not only because he didn’t want the lecture but also cause he didn’t want his parents to smell it when he got home. He could hear the older boy behind him, pouring more drinks, and sure enough when he turned back around, Chris extended one of the cups back to him. It didn’t taste quite as strong this time, so Arthur drank it relatively quickly. 

There were a few cheers and shouts from the other room, and Chris suggested they go investigate. Arthur happily followed, feeling much more relaxed with a couple drinks in him. He stuck close to the burly boy, figuring if nothing else he could hide behind him if Dom came around. Arthur pictured himself carefully tucked out of sight just standing behind Chris’ much larger frame, and found himself giggling. He took another swig of his drink as they went to the dining room, where a whole cluster of people were gathered around the table watching others play a round of Ride the Bus. He happily joined in on the chorus of “OH!”’s when someone had to take a shot, his head feeling light and pleasantly fuzzy as he laughed with Chris and the others. 

After a while, Arthur began getting tired, fatigue steadily taking hold of him. His body began to feel heavy like it were full of sand, his eyes drooping almost shut before he realized they were even closing. He went to grab his phone out of his jeans, his hand clumsy and missing the pocket on the first attempt. He grumbled when he realized he still had another half an hour before he could call Rachel, and to his frustration almost dropped his phone before he could get it back into his pocket. 

Just before could excuse himself to go find a couch to sit on, Chris’ arm wound around his shoulders again, warm and heavy as he pulled Arthur closer. Arthur flopped against him, blinking to try and clear the fuzz clouding his vision as let the older boy support him upright. He let his head droop back against Chris’ muscular chest, rubbing his eye with the heel of his hand to try and rid himself of his fatigue. He knew that resting against a guy he just met like this was probably a rather awkward choice, and again he felt so much younger and out of place, everyone else still raging on in full party mode while he himself was in dire need of a fucking nap. 

“Aww,” Chris rumbled next to him, voice low. “You getting tired, little buddy?” 

Arthur nodded, rubbing a hand over his face. Chris’ forearm slid from his shoulder to dangle against his chest, pulling Arthur closer still until Arthur was pressed flush against him. He could feel the rumble in the older boy’s chest as he chuckled, the backs of his knuckles lazily dragging over Arthur’s belly. It felt nice, but the room around him was getting too loud, the sound all blending together and the lights fading gently. He just wanted to go home.

Arthur tried to reach into his pocket again, but to his cloudy irritation his hand was sluggish and didn’t seem to go where he wanted. Then he was then aware of Chris’ arm wrapping around his waist, tugging him back firmly as he dipped his head to nuzzle in Arthur’s nape. 

“You smell really good,” Chris mumbled against his skin, his breath so hot and warm against him it was almost stifling. 

Arthur knew he should push the older boy away, that Chris’ hand was pressed too low on his belly and his mouth uncomfortably wet against his neck. “Thank you,” he mumbled instead, inexplicably. His mother always was telling he he had to learn how to accept a compliment, even when he felt it was undeserved. 

“Do you have any idea how sexy you are?” Chris was rasping then against his ear, just loud enough for Arthur to hear. Arthur was confused, and knit his brows as his eyes began to drift shut with fatigue. Why was he so tired all of a sudden? He felt like if he just closed his eyes for a minute, he could get it together, but every time he let them shut it was harder to get them back open again. He slowly became aware of what felt like a hand on his ass, cupping it and gently smoothing over the curve. He tried to reach back and push Chris away and create some distance, but Chris was holding him too tightly, and Arthur’s limbs still refused to cooperate. .

Arthur managed to open his eyes a minute to see them moving through the crowd, though the people themselves were too blurred for him to properly make out. Chris’ arm was painfully tight about his waist, and though Arthur wanted to push at the arm to give himself room to breathe, he found he couldn’t get his arms to do as he wanted. Instead, they rested feebly against Chris’ burly forearm. He then realized the arm hurt so badly because it was holding him up, his toes brushing along the carpet as Chris dragged him towards the stairs. 

“Want to go lie down, baby?” Chris asked in his ear. “I know a spot where you can rest.”

Arthur shook his head, wanting to tell him that his sister was coming, that he wanted to stay down at the party, that he couldn’t sleep over because Dom was mad at him, but nothing came out. He winced as the pressure around his middle increased, and then Chris moved the arm up to his chest, urging Arthur’s legs to move up the stairs by pressing his thigh to the backs of Arthur’s knees. 

“I-I’m so t-tired,” Arthur mumbled, his eyes falling shut of their own volition and his head drooping back against Chris’ shoulder. Chis’ chest rumbled again with more chuckles. 

“Don’t worry baby,” he rasped. “I’ll fuck you so good you wake back up.”

Arthur’s face scrunched up at that, and when they got to the top of the stairs and Chris pressed against him bodily, he could feel a hardness pressing into his lower back. The older boy wrapped his arm back around Arthur’s waist and lifted him an inch or two again, walking them both forwards down a hall. Arthur could hear voices but his eyes were closed so he couldn’t see how many people were around him. He wanted to reach out and grab someone, but his arms no longer moved when he willed them to. 

“You ever had a dick in your ass, sweet thing?” Chris murmured wetly in Arthur’s ear, and he frowned again, his head merely flopping to the side when he tried to shake it. 

“No,” he mumbled. He could feel Chris’ smile pressed against his cheek at this. 

“You’ll love it,” Chris promised, the hand at his waist now rubbing hard up and down Arthur’s belly as he fumbled with a door. He pressed it down into Arthur’s pants a few times, groaning when he rubbed over Arthur’s soft cock and balls. “Oh fuck yeah,” he groaned, gripping Arthur once hard before getting the door open and dragging Arthur inside. 

Arthur felt himself bounce against something soft, realizing he was on a bed and that he should probably get off, but he couldn’t move. He could feel Chris tugging his shoes off one at a time, could feel himself jostled about as his jeans were opened and tugged down along with his underwear. The room was too chilly though, and Arthur wanted to leave. He didn’t want to be in this room, in this bed, not if he wasn’t with Dom. He tried to sit up, tried to tell Chris he wanted his pants back, but he couldn’t. Warm hands were pushing his sweater up to his chest, a crude imitation of what the older boy had done in the garage. 

“So sexy, Artie,” Chris groaned, mouthing against Arthur’s neck, his tongue laving against Arthur’s overheated skin. 

Arthur tried to shake his head, but it just floundered lazily against the bedding. “No,” he finally forced out, the word slurred and small. “Stop….please...I don’t-I don’ wan’ to.” The words felt like marbles in his mouth, and he wasn’t even sure Chris could have understood them. But when he opened his mouth to try again, Chris bent down and pressed a firm kiss to his lips, his tongue filling Arthur’s lax mouth. Arthur furrowed his brows, the feeling of Chris’ tongue sliding wetly over his own displeasing. It only took him a few minutes to stop registering what exactly the older boy was doing to him. Arthur slowly stopped feeling Chris’ rough fingers drag against his ribs and across the flat plane of his usually sensitive stomach. He stopped feeling the weight between his legs and the jostle that came from Chris unzipping his own jeans. He stopped feeling everything and finally faded into unconsciousness.


	2. Eames' People Watching Pays Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eames notices something isn't right and investigates.

Eames was always one to people watch. He enjoyed seeing their facial expressions, deconstruct their body language and reactions, and especially take note of what they did when they thought no one was watching. On nights such as this, where he was acting as sober cab and nearing the end of the one and only beer he’d allow himself that evening, his particular hobby kept him sane.

He casually leaned back against a door-jam, keeping on the outskirts of the party so he could survey the busy room. He watched a few frat brothers do a kegstand, smirked while observing a relatively intoxicated girl try to smoothly hit on a boy while wobbling on her too-tall heels, and peeked over at a group of girls huddled around another girl on the couch, rubbing her back and leaning in with they brows rounded in exaggerated sympathy while she talked with frustrated animation. 

Eames was considering trying to get closer to the girls and eavesdrop, but then some excited shouts from the dining room caught his attention. He shifted against the doorway, arms crossed as he watched the small gaggle of people huddled around a drinking game. Everyone there looked pretty drunk already, one guy whooping like a primate when his friend had to take a shot. 

He didn’t know what made them catch his eye, but Eames found himself watching a tall blond guy he vaguely recognized, and the kid he had his arm around. Eames supposed it was because of the size disparity between the two, the blond well over a head taller and at least twice the petite brunette's size. The blond’s arm to most would seem friendly, but to Eames it ready as possessive, possibly predatory. When the brunette turned to reach into his pocket and Eames caught a good look at his face, he found the kid looked attractive but terribly young. Some guys their age did still have babyfaces, but this kid reeked of high school.

Eames edged his way closer, still maintaining enough distance that he wouldn’t be noticed but close enough that he could examine them closer. Being gay himself and remembering what it was like to be so young and reckless instantly put him on his guard. The kid was certainly out of place here, but no one else seemed to be paying him any notice. Eames’ eyes narrowed in distaste when he saw the kid unsteadily try to put his cellphone back in his pocket, even missing the pocket completely on his first try. He definitely seemed drunk, but the blond holding him didn’t appear similarly afflicted. In fact the blond stood stock still, his arm curling further over the kid’s shoulders to drag him back against him, and the kid just flopped back, his eyes closing. Eames noted that it looked like the kid was trying to open his eyes, but they kept drooping shut again. Warning bells shot off in Eames’ head when the blond guy curled an arm tightly around the kid’s waist, the muscles in his forearm cording from the force with which he pulled the boy back against him. His head dipped down to the kid’s ear, murmuring something. The kid stayed slumped back against him, his head lolling to the side like he couldn’t hold it up, or wanted to turn to say something but didn’t have the strength. 

Eames figured anyone too drunk to stand should be taken home to sleep it off, but as far as he figured a kid that young had no business being that drunk in the first place, much less at a frat party. On top of that, no guy Eames’ age had any business holding an a drunk young kid like that, whisper into his ear like that. Eames’ eyes narrowed angrily when the guy’s hand cupped and stroked over the kid’s ass, knowing that this couldn’t lead to anything good. He quickly stepped forward, ready to pretend he knew the kid and lead him over to the couches and hopefully find someone to call in the phone in his pocket.

Eames made no more than two steps before being bowled over by two guys roughhousing, slammed so hard in his side that he spun and almost stumbled to the floor. The guys were both laughing, raising hands in feeble apology before going back to wrestling one another. By the time Eames had righted himself and glared at the two drunk idiots, he looked back to the where the blond and kid had been standing only to find they weren’t there. 

Eames’ heart sank like a stone, eyes wide as he scanned the area. He just knew the kid was drugged, knew it in his gut. Eames felt panic when he couldn’t find them, worried the guy would take the kid out of the house before he could stop him. Thankfully, movement by the stairs caught his eye, and he saw the blond practically carrying the kid up the second set of stairs, his arm wrapped around the kid’s waist. Eames moved forward, keeping his eyes fixed on the pair as the blond shifted his hold on the kid, his arm around the boy’s chest and his head bowed down to nestle against his throat. 

Eames worked his way through the crowded room, pushing a few people none too gently as he moved towards the stairs. His friend Dom tried to step in front of him, a hand raised to stop him in his tracks. 

“Hey Eames, got a minute?” Dom asked.

Eames shook his head, brushing past Dom and tossing, “not now, mate,” over his shoulder. He’d have been happy for Dom’s help, but he worried that in the time it took him to explain things to his friend was time the kid upstairs didn’t have. He could hear Dom calling after him but ignored him, rushing towards the stairs and bounding up them two at a time. There were a few people milling about, but no sign of the kid. He tried asking a couple of people “You seen a young looking kid with a big blond guy?” but all he got for his trouble was eyerolls or looks that implied he sounded crazy.

There were six doors in the hallway, all closed. Eames swallowed his pride and walked purposefully to the first door, pushing a boy and a girl out of the way as he opened it and peered in. There were three people sitting on the bed, sharing what had to be a joint between them. Eames closed the door with a huff, crossing the hall to the next one. That room was empty, and when he opened the third he was greeted to an eyefull of a topless girl bouncing on top of a guy on the bed. He mumbled a quick apology and jerked the door shut, ignoring the irritated shouts from within. 

There was a tap on his shoulder and Eames turned to see a girl with eyes swamped by eyeliner. She looked high as a kite and smelled like old bongwater, but he pointed one chipped nail to the door at the end of the hall. “I think they went in there, man,” she slurred, affect flat. 

Eames thanked her and rushed to the door, turning the knob only to find it locked. Quick as he could, he fished out his wallet, grabbed the first card he could find and slipped it into the doorjam. He pressed on the door as he wiggled the card in, finally feeling the latch and a second later the door popped open. 

The room was dark, so Eames flipped on a desk lamp next to the door, immediately casting a soft yellow glow through the room, illuminating it enough for him to make out the two figures on the bed. The kid was naked except for his socks, lying on his front with his head tilted to the side against the bedding, his eyes closed and mouth slack. His arms were limp at his sides, legs spread at what would have been an uncomfortable angle so the bulky blond could kneel between them. 

The blond whipped his head around in shock at Eames, his jeans pushed down just below his ass to expose himself. He had his dick in one hand and a condom in the other, the condom wrapper on the bed beside him. After the guy got over his initial shock at seeing Eames there, he narrowed his eyes angrily, mouth curling in a sneer. “Get the fuck out!” he barked, pulling up the side of the comforter to try and hide the kid’s body from Eames.

Eames stalked forward, fists clenched at his sides as he ripped the blanket out of the guy’s hands and let it drop. There were lube stains on the blanket, more smeared lube shining wetly around the cleft of the kid’s ass. The kid was definitely unconscious, whether from drinking or being drugged Eames neither knew nor cared. Only a fucking animal would take advantage of someone like this.

The blond shoved him, shouting “mind your own business, dude!” before Eames’ fist connected hard with his face, sending him toppling back off the bed. With the blond guy temporarily out of commission, Eames returned to the kid’s side. He carefully rolled the boy onto his back, checking for a pulse before tapping on the kid’s cheeks to try and rouse him. 

“Wake up, kid,” Eames murmured softly to him, giving him a little shake before checking his breathing again. He wrapped the kid in the blanket to cover his nakedness, about to reach for his phone to call 911 when heard movement behind him. The blond guy had his jeans done back up and was moving towards him, blood on his face and eyes blazing. 

“What’s your fucking problem?” he hissed, getting in Eames’ face. “This is none of your business.”

“He’s fucking unconscious!” Eames shouted, pointing to the still form on the bed before pushing the guy hard in the chest. “What the fuck did you give him?”

The guy rolled his eyes. “Calm down, faggot, it’s just an ambien blend...he wanted this, I’m just making it easier on him.”

Eames stared at him in shock, completely disgusted at the guy’s blase attitude towards what he was about to do. The guy’s cockiness made Eames wonder how many times he’d done something like this before. “I’m calling the fucking cops, asshole,” he finally said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. 

The blond actually looked panicked then, grabbing Eames by the front of his shirt and throwing out a punch which landed but was too frenzied to do any real damage. Eames evaded the next punch, but tripped over some clothes which sent both him and the blond crashing to the floor. 

As he and the blond wrestled for the upper hand, Eames became aware of voices in the hallway. A quick glance to the door revealed several people crowding around the door, looking in at the spectacle of the two boys fighting. “Call 911!” Eames shouted before a punch to the sternum forced the air from his lungs. The blond was grappling for Eames’ phone then, and Eames somehow managed to hold it just out of reach, pushing the blond’s face away as he tried to jerk a knee up against the guy’s kidney. 

Eames could hear voices again, someone asked “what’s going on?” before a familiar voice shouted out “Oh my god, Arthur!”

Eames jerked his head over to see Dom rush to the bedside, hunched forward as he took in the exposed naked skin and still form on the bed, fingers carding through Arthur’s hair as he gently tried to wake him up. Apparently Eames wasn’t the only one surprised by Dom’s arrival, as the blond guy instantly froze, panic clear on his face. He must have realized that he wouldn’t be getting out of this, and as soon as he’d scrambled to his feet he was booking it for the door. Eames watched him push his way past the gathering crowd of onlookers, shouting for someone to call 911 as he stood up. 

A girl at the door said her friend was already calling, so Eames put his own phone away and crossed back to where Dom was frantically tapping on the kid’s cheeks to try and wake him. 

“Come on, Arthur, come on,” Dom moaned, face strained and eyes reddening as the kid remained unresponsive. He looked up when he saw Eames, confusion twisting his face. “I don’t get it, I hang out with Chris all the time...he did this…how could he...?” 

Eames could tell Dom was babbling as much to himself as he was to him, so he turned and scanned the room for Arthur’s clothes, stooping to pick up his boxers. He knew he probably should leave things how they were as it was technically a crime scene, but he felt boy deserved a little dignity after almost being violated. Dom was still stroking Arthur’s hair and face, begging him to wake up. When Eames pulled back the blankets just enough to put Arthur’s boxers on, Dom stopped him with a steely grip to his forearm. 

“What are you doing?” Dom asked, eyes wide and fingers actually trembling. 

Eames nodded down towards the boxers. “Just gonna put these on him, ok?”

Dom then seemed to realize that Arthur was completely naked under the blanket, and he peeled it back gingerly, horrified at the lube stains he saw there. “Oh my god, Artie,” Dom groaned, wetness shining in eyes wracked with guilt. “Did Chris-” Dom’s trembling voice was so low Eames almost couldn’t hear him. “Was Arthur raped?”

Eames’ brows rounded in empathy at the pain on Dom’s face. He suddenly remembered seeing Dom with this kid around campus. He’d heard Dom talk about his friend Arthur, whom he spoke of like a little brother; “I have to take Arthur here sometime” or “Arthur would totally love this.”

Eames shook his head, resting a sympathetic hand on Dom’s shoulder. “I don’t think it got that far,” he said softly. 

Dom’s face crumpled with relief, head slumping forwards as he gathered Arthur’s limp form up onto his lap. “I’m so sorry, Artie,” he whispered into the boy’s dark hair. “I’m so fucking sorry, I should have been there.”

Eames ducked his head, focusing on getting Arthur’s boxers on to give Dom a moment. He’d never seen the other boy so upset before, his guilt palpable. Eames didn’t know what had happened between them that night that Dom had to be sorry for, but he did know it was none of his business. Once Arthur’s boxers were on, he sat on the bed so he and Dom were on either side of the kid, boxing him in. He rested a hand on Dom’s shoulder, looking away when he heard the sniff and sharp intake of breath that signaled the other boy was crying. 

The small crowd at the doorway had moved back into the hall. Someone had closed the door, but Eames could hear voices on the other side. A small noise caught his attention, and Eames looked down at see Arthur’s brows had furrowed a bit, his eyes still closed and lips still parted, but he moaned a little in his stupor. Dom gave a small cry of relief for some sign of life from the kid, and hugged him tighter. “It’s gonna be ok, kiddo,” he mumbled into Arthur’s hair. “It’s gonna be ok.”


	3. Chance Encounter

When Arthur had woken up in the hospital, the first thing he’d seen was Dom hunched forwards in a chair, elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. Arthur had still been fuzzy, but he’d forever remember the look on Dom’s face when he realized Arthur was awake. He’d never seen Dom cry before, but he had, the older boy’s shoulders shaking as he knelt by Arthur’s bedside. He said that he’d been wrong for pushing Arthur away like that, promised he’d never let anyone hurt him again. 

Arthur didn’t remember much about the night due to the drugs Chris had put in his drink, and it had been grotesquely surreal to hear the events of the night relayed to him. At first he’d felt oddly detached from it, like he’d been told the plot of a movie. It hadn’t really hit him for a few weeks, but when it finally did it hit hard. He’d gone to therapy, avoided any further highschool or college parties all the way until graduation, and even pressed charges on Chris. Arthur’s family had been furious when the older boy made a plea bargain which included no jail time, but Arthur himself had just been glad it was over. He’d also written a letter to Eames, thanking the older boy for intervening. He honestly hadn’t remembered Eames at all, but Dom had insisted that if Eames hadn’t stepped in, no one would have found Arthur in time, and Arthur wanted to thank him in some way. He only hoped the letter would be enough. 

The thing that had helped the most through it all though, had been his closer bond with Dom. The older boy had left his frat, angered when several members and the board sided with Chris, and instead opted to live at home to keep a closer eye on Arthur. Any time Dom wasn’t with his girlfriend Mal, they were together. He helped Arthur with his homework, went with him to movies, and acted just like he had before the kissing incident. 

Despite the rekindled closeness, Arthur found his crush on Dom had dissipated, likely helped in part by the fact that Mal was completely lovely and a perfect match for Dom. Arthur spent his last year and a half of high school focused on his studies, some residual trust issues keeping him from pursuing any further romantic entanglements. He had graduated at the top of his class, his mother and sister bawling and tracking wet kisses across his forehead and cheeks when they saw him in his cap and gown. 

Neither Arthur’s parents or sister understood his decision to attend the university where he was almost raped, but Arthur felt safe with Dom there. Oddly enough, he felt safer there with Dom than he would have at another school by himself. He’d chosen to live at home despite Dom’s offer for them to get a place together with Mal, and still made a couple new friends in his classes. They were all girls, as Arthur was still a bit wary of unfamiliar boys, but they were fun and easy going, and helped Arthur forget his anxieties. 

It was the week before finals, Christmas almost there and the campus decorated with white lights and a fresh blanket of snow. As he left the student library Arthur was more relaxed than he’d been in months, despite the impending week of exams. Dom and Mal were having a small Christmas party at their apartment and Dom had texted Arthur at least four times to make sure he’d be ok with the number of people and presence of alcohol. He smiled down at his phone when it chimed with yet another “but you’re sure” text, to which he responded “ask me again and I wont come.” 

Arthur tucked his phone into his messenger bag and stuffed his hands into his pockets, in such a good mood he hardly minded the cold. The scarf Rachel knit him as a birthday present was warm around his neck, and all he could think of was how lovely the coffee he was on route to get would feel spreading a soothing warmth from the inside out. He considered texting Ariadne, one of his new friends and confidants, to have her meet him until he remembered she had a night class. 

He crossed the quad, the fresh snow crunching under his feet as he went. There weren’t many people out that day, and Arthur was glad for a little peace and quiet after the cramped library study quarters. He was so lost in his own head he almost didn’t notice the guy walking towards him on his left, but as soon as Arthur saw the guy and realized he was staring at him, Arthur felt his skin prickle. He ducked his head, quickening his pace and almost tripped over his own two feet when the guy called out his name. 

“Arthur?” the guy said again, stopping in his tracks when he realized he’d startled the boy. 

Arthur froze, reminding himself to breathe and not panic while he slipped his fingers into his messenger bag to pull out his phone. “Yes?” he responded timidly. 

The guy tilted his head, his smile sheepish and uncertain. He was certainly very attractive, with rakish stubbe and full gorgeous lips, but Arthur knew only too well that attractiveness did not directly correlate to well intentioned. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t suppose you remember me,” the guy said, his voice husky and low but gentle. He was British, if the accent was anything to go by, but Arthur couldn’t think of how he might know him. He would hardly have forgotten a face like that, even back in the days when he was at the height of his Dom worship. 

The guy raised his palms so Arthur could see they were empty before wrapping around the strap of his own bag. He took a careful step forwards, still keeping some distance between them but close enough he didn’t have to shout. “Don’t worry, I figured you wouldn’t after...you mentioned in the letter you didn’t remember anything, but I’d never forget your face after-”

Arthur’s brows climbed to his hairline. “Eames?” he asked with disbelief.

Eames nodded, smiling again. “Got my student ID and everything if you want to see it, but I swear it’s me. God, look at you! Thought my eyes were playing tricks on me when I saw you walking just now.”

Arthur flushed, hoping the pink already staining his cheeks from the cold masked it. “You...you recognized me, after all this time?”

Now it was Eames’ turn to look surprised, his mouth hanging open a little and hands settling on his hips. “I don’t think I’d ever have forgotten your face, darling. That night-” his face softened, his eyes open with an edge of vulnerability. “It stuck with me.”

Arthur chewed on his own lip then. “You and me both,” he said quietly. 

They stood for a moment of awkward silence before Eames spoke up again. “So how have you been? You doing ok?”

Arthur shrugged. “Pretty good. Dom looks after me, kinda babies me really, but I can’t say i hate it. How about you?”

“Oh I’m fine,” Eames said with a noncommittal shrug. “Life has been rather uneventful, but I can’t say i hate it either.” He winked, and for the first time in a long time the gesture didn’t unease Arthur. 

“I really hope this doesn’t come off creepy, but I was actually on my way to go get something to eat.” Eames raised a hand to rub at the back of his neck, his stance causal but Arthur could recognize the familiar signs of nerves in the older boy. “Would you...want to come along?”

From anyone else this offer would have likely set off a panic attack, but Arthur found himself immediately agreeing. The only thought in his head was ‘this boy noticed you when no one else did, he stepped in for you when no one else bothered.’ He felt safe, like with Dom. 

Their dinner was a bit awkward until Eames stopped worrying about saying the wrong thing and upsetting Arthur. Eames asked after Dom, admitting he hadn’t seen much of him or Mal in a while. Arthur invited him to Dom’s party, which made Eames beam from ear to ear, his warm smile showing off crooked teeth which Arthur found most endearing. 

Before they parted, Eames carefully enveloped one of Arthur’s hands in his own and quietly asked if they could keep in touch. Arthur nodded, lamenting the loss when Eames took his hand away to write his number down for Arthur. He looked pleasantly surprised when Arthur wrote his own number down and handed it over, like he was touched by the display of trust. 

It didn’t even take a half an hour before Eames texted him. Arthur felt heat bloom inside him when he read it. Eames’ message ‘Had a lovely time’ was quickly succeeded by a ‘can I see you again?’ Arthur felt a swell of adrenaline as he typed back a quick yes. 

He and Eames ended up texting each other all night long, only to do it again the next night. Eames called him every night during finals week, asking how his exams had gone and just listening as Arthur enthusiastically chattered on and on about his favorite classes. 

For some reason, Arthur was nervous to tell Dom about Eames. He only finally confessed it during a visit to Dom and Mal’s apartment when Dom finally called him out on being distant and hard to get in touch with. Dom was quiet at first, and Arthur worried there was still some residual discomfort with his being gay, but then Dom went in about how Eames was a bit older, that being around him might make it harder for Arthur to move on from his attack. Mal, who’d been listening, laughed at this. She pet Dom’s hair sympathetically and accused him of being jealous that his best friend was spending time with someone else. 

“Really Dominic,” she chided. “You shouldn’t want Arthur to be alone forever, and that it’s Eames is practically providential.”

Arthur called Eames directly after and asked if he’d go to Dom and Mal’s christmas party as his date, to which Eames enthusiastically agreed. They began meeting more, Eames holding Arthur’s hand as they walked through campus or downtown to do some last minute Christmas shopping. Arthur practically melted the first time Eames wrapped an arm lightly about his waist, the first time he kissed him. After that first time, it seemed Eames couldn’t get enough of kissing him, which Arthur had no complaints about. 

The first time he took Eames home to meet his family, Arthur’s mother had hugged Eames tight and kissed his cheek with tears in her eyes. His father happily chatted with Eames about his degree path and future prospects, which Rachel glumly commented had never happened with a boy ‘she’ brought home, and claimed a gross display of favoritism. She also conceded privately to Arthur later that Eames has the hottest guy she’d ever seen and she was not above accepting sloppy seconds if they ever broke up.

Arthur had forgotten what it felt like to be so at ease, to not have the constant tightness in his chest, to sleep through the night for nights on end. He even put on a little weight. 

After dating for several months, they still hadn’t progressed much past heavy makeout sessions. Arthur liked to sit astride Eames’ lap, his arms draped over Eames’ broad shoulders and down his back, Eames’ broad hands gentle on his hips and lower back. They alternated between light brushes of lips to deep kisses, exploring each other’s mouths until their noses crushed together and their teeth clicked. While Arthur got hard almost every time, and he’d felt Eames hard beneath him, they’d never progressed further. Arthur finally took matters into his own hand, quite literally.

He was sitting atop Eames again, looking down at that swollen mouth and before he could think about it and doubt himself, slid his hand between their bodies and pressed his palm firmly to the bulge in Eames’ pants. 

Eames’ mouth immediately dropped open in a groan, his eyes fluttering shut as Arthur massaged his cock through his pants. Arthur bit his lip when he felt those big hands at his hips, Eames’ fingertips just barely daring to brush against his ass. “Arthur,” he moaned, the younger boy’s name a purr rolling off the end of his tongue. Arthur closed his own eyes then, letting himself just feel the firming flesh beneath his fingers, so warm even through the layers of clothes. He dipped into Eames’ sweatpants, fingertips easing past the waistband of his boxers. They both groaned when Arthur’s fingers finally closed around bare skin, Eames’ sensitive flesh silky in his palm. He jerked Eames off gently, bounced by Eames’ rocking hips. His own cock was so hard it almost hurt, but Arthur didn’t want to miss a single flicker of pleasure on Eames’ handsome face as he stroked him. When Eames came, he sagged back boneless against the couch, gazing up at Arthur with complete adoration as he calmed his breathing. 

“Can I touch you?” Eames asked finally, cheeks rosy from his orgasm. His fingers gently played up and down Arthur’s sides as he waited for an answer, his swollen lips soft and warm when he leaned up to press a kiss to the side of Arthur’s throat. 

Arthur’s skin tingled wherever Eames touched him, his body arching into the older boy’s touch and he found himself nodding insistently, unable to bite back a moan when Eames’ strong hands gripped his ass and carefully squeezed. Once he had Arthur’s permission, Eames’ hands were all over him, his mouth leaving a heated trail across his skin. Arthur found himself rocking to meet Eames’ careful thrust, brushing their hardnesses together. Arthur felt like he would burst both from the pleasure but also from how comfortable he was with everything that happened. 

Eames gently eased Arthur to lie back on the couch, thumbs stroking against his ribs as he kissed him deeply. Arthur let his legs fall open, his hips pushing up against Eames’ until they were thrusting in rhythm, both of them gasping and moaning between hungry kisses. Then Eames was hovering above him, one hand braced on the amr of the sofa and the other trailing lightly over Arthur’s inseam. “Can I go down on you?” he asked, eyes dark with lust and lips swollen from kissing. 

Arthur’s cock twitched at the question, and he almost thought he’d cum right on the spot. He bit his lip, nodding shyly and lifting his hips when Eames undid his jeans and dragged them down. He flushed when Eames urged one of his legs over his shoulder, effectively opening him up for access. It was the first time Arthur had been naked with another guy, at least while he was conscious of it, and he couldn’t help but be self conscious about his bared body. Eames seemed to have no objections though, nipping at Arthur’s lower belly as his mouth trailed down and hands soothing Arthur’s inner thighs. 

Arthur had to close his eyes when Eames took him into his mouth, the sensation so overwhelming and new that he just needed a moment to adjust. His chest heaved as he panted, thighs squirming as Eames’ hot mouth slid wetly up and down his length. Arthur reached back to grip the arm of the couch, hips humping involuntarily as he felt his orgasm building. It was just a complete sensory overload, between the slick heat of Eames’ mouth, the way the older boy gently squeezed his balls, the hand rubbing over his belly and holding him down. So when Eames drew his mouth off and lazily dragged his tongue just under the crown of Arthur’s cock while stroking his length with a firm grip, Arthur came with a choked off cry. 

Eames gave his prick a last little kiss before pulling himself back up the couch, draping himself over Arthur once again. He wiped at Arthur’s soiled belly with the hem of his own t-shirt and nuzzled him just under his jaw. “Did you like that?” he asked. 

Arthur laughed, wrapping a bare leg over Eames’ clothed one. “I think the spunk on your shirt kind of answers that,” he said, unable to keep the grin curling his mouth. 

“Do I get a kiss?” Eames asked, lips hovering just inches above Arthur’s. 

Arthur nodded, arching up to receive the older boy. He could taste himself in Eames’ kiss, the realization not as unpleasant as he might have previously suspected. “Do you….do you want me to-” 

Eames gazed down at him a moment before responding. “I’d love you to, but no need to rush things, darling. Plenty of time for all that.” While Arthur considered whether he was disappointed or relieved, Eames patted his naked rump. “Let’s get you washed up, yeah?”

Arthur watched Eames get up, drinking in the way his muscles moved under his clothes as he righted himself. God, he wanted to see the gorgeous body he was sure was hiding under those clothes. “Only if you come in with me,” he insisted. 

Eames winked before pulling his shirt off, baring his hard muscular torso. “Whatever you say, love.”

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings for drugging and partially completed date rape.


End file.
